Quiet World
by victoriaely
Summary: Rodney makes a terrifying discovery.
1. Chapter 1

Rodney woke up to find the world quiet. He looked at his watch and saw it was eight am. That meant he had one hour to get dressed and eat some breakfast before his working day officially started. He grabbed his comm and tried to reach Sheppard. They were supposed to have breakfast together and talk about Rodney's field training. Wasted time. He would explain how he had better things to do than hold a stick. He could never use them properly out in the field, so why waste the time?

_Colonel, I think you're wasting your time_ No, that wouldn't sound too well. Rodney opened his mouth to say it out loud, but no words came out. He slowly sat down on his bed and said the words again. Nothing. He screamed, his lungs and throat hurting, but what noise could a mute person make?

Rodney got up and started pacing. It was all a dream. It was some twisted, super-realistic nightmare that was haunting him. He already dreamt he was blind, or drowning, or choking to death, being mute was just another bad dream. He would play along until his alarm clock beeped, or when something blew up and someone came to his door, or when he was too tired and miserable and his body would wake him up.

A warm hand on his shoulder made him stop. Sheppard was there, in front of him, upset, talking. It was really interesting. Most of his dreams were vividly colored, with feelings and sounds and colors intertwining, capturing. This one was almost dull. Sheppard's uniform was black, his room's walls were grey and it was all so quiet. Sheppard was speaking, but no words were coming out. Maybe he was mute, too. Rodney McKay was having a mute dream.

He concentrated really hard and he could read Sheppard's lips. _McKay, what are you doing?_

_Nothing, obviously._

_Then get dressed and come._

Rodney concentrated. Sheppard said 'then'. Sheppard answered his question. Was he reading his lips, as well? Rodney looked at Sheppard and suddenly clapped his hands. The Colonel's face grew angrier, and his words louder. They must have been louder, but Rodney didn't hear them.

Silent tears fell on his cheeks as he willed himself to speak. _I'm deaf._

- --- -

He didn't know exactly what happened, but he knew he was on the floor, hunched, and Sheppard was trying to get him to look at him. Well, grabbing his head and raising it quite painfully was probably Sheppard's way of asking for a little attention.

Then Carson came and he was talking to Sheppard, looking at Rodney from time to time, taking things from a nurse. The Scot sat down, by his side, and took his hands, and gave him a piece of paper. Rodney slowly read Carson's words. He was asking him to answer his questions, tell him everything that might have caused this. Rodney looked up from the paper and sighed. He could read Sheppard's lips, but Carson's... he would remember his accent and how wrong everything was. Carson took the paper from him and gently helped him to stand. He must have said something to Sheppard, because the man went away, closing the door. The Scot handed him an uniform and waited patiently for him to coordinate his movement enough to be able to dress himself.

Some ten minutes later, he was walking towards the infirmary, Carson's warm hand gently pressed on his back, guiding him.

- --- -

Carson gave him some pills to take and explained that they wouldn't fix his problem, but that he was weak and he should take care of himself more and thrust the bottle off pills in his hands. Rodney took it and left the infirmary, hoping to find peace in his room. It was really strange. It was quiet, with no sound from the outside world, just his thoughts, but the need for sounds was overwhelming. Seeing Carson's lips move when he was talking to others, then starting to say something to him before he remembered and closed his mouth with a sad look on his face made him feel sick more than anything else.

Carson and John said he could still work in the lab, but they didn't know about all the things that beeped when things went wrong and all the alarms and... his people expected him to be able to hear them. He didn't want to pretend to be okay, because he wasn't. A wall could come crashing down on him and he wouldn't know it. He could scream for help and die there not knowing if anyone ever heard him. He was not okay.

- --- -

At the briefing, everyone assured him that it was okay for him to go back to the lab. Well... Carson said that he would suggest it and when he did, the others didn't look appalled, so he took it as an acceptance. Seeing his lab assistants stare at him made him reconsider. He wanted to snap at them, yell and get them moving again, but it would be pointless. They would waste time explaining everything to him, writing down everything. So Rodney got up from his table and went to another desk, hoping there were enough reports that needed to be written in Atlantis to justify his presence.

- --- -

Rodney slowly made his way on the corridors, moving close to the walls. Yesterday a marine almost knocked him over. The man apologized and those who were there told him that the man had said 'Make way', but Rodney didn't hear any of that. Just saw their lips moving and their faces showing reproach. The safest way to move was close to the walls, because nobody else moved close to the walls.

As he walked in the infirmary, a nurse asked him about how he was and he waved his hand, trying to send her away. Her and the look of pity on her face. He just wanted to see Carson and ask him if he couldn't help him in the lab. Whenever he visited him in the lab, Carson was alone. If he could work alone, maybe he could find something for Rodney to do on his won.

The doctor was hunched on his desk, looking at some sort of drawing. As he moved closer, Rodney saw that it was a drawing of some bones. Carson must have been researching for something... Lt. Reynolds broke his leg that morning while offworld, Rodney remembered reading in a message.

Well, Carson was obviously busy, no time to baby sit him, so Rodney turned around and headed for the door. Carson must have heard him at some point, because he was by his side, with one hand on Rodney's shoulder, looking apologetic.

_It's okay, I know you're busy_, Rodney said, hoping his words didn't come out too loud.

Grabbing a pencil from his lab coat, Carson started looking around, probably searching for a pencil. He couldn't find any, so he turned to look at Rodney.

_I'm sorry, Rodney._ Rodney smiled, because he finally could read Carson's lips. And because on his face, he saw no trace of pity or accusation, just regret that he couldn't find the solution. Not yet.


	2. Chapter 2

The mess hall was quite lively. Until now, he only saw the food and people eating it. Now, he saw people talking, smiling, waving at others to join. He was so busy trying to remember the noises and fill in the gab, that he didn't notice the food in his plate was cold. Sheppard sat down at his table, took his own bowl of soup and placed in front of Rodney.

_Eat._

Rodney quickly complied, but stopped after a few seconds, looking at one of the tables across the room. Radek was there, with Miko and a botanist. They weren't eating, but looking at something. Judging from the flipped pages, it had to be a photo album.

Rodney knew that he was a tough boss. He wanted work to be work and it could hardly be so if everyone stopped every five minutes to go 'aawww' about some stupid baby photo. He told them that a long time ago and he still knew it was the best way to work. But his people were running away, under the pretense of eating, to spend some time together. He never admonished them for meeting and looking at photos, though. He just said he would...

Sheppard squeezed his shoulder and repeated his request, _Eat._

When he was done, Sheppard took both their trays and disposed of them. He didn't even look back to wave goodbye as he left the mess hall and Rodney wondered who made John come and feed him. Probably Carson.

- --- -

Rodney was staring at the small plants and the drawings that were supposed to represent their cells. He had a cell from the root, another from the leaf and another strange thing that he vaguely remembered as being the flower structure. If they would have shown this to his girlfriends, they wouldn't have put those pouts on their faces when he took them out without giving them flowers. Maybe the pout wasn't because of the flowers, but because they were disappointed with themselves, for not finding a better date. He rose from the chair, leaving the drawing of vacuole, membranes and all the small bits on the table, and headed for Carson's lab. He would know.

- --- -

This was stupid. He had so many things on his mind and now, standing in front of Carson, he couldn't say a thing.

_Yes, Rodney? _ He could see Carson say the words and could see he barely stopped himself from adding 'Is something wrong?'.

_Thanks for sending Sheppard to... _

Carson just nodded and invited him to sit down. He accepted smiling and took one of Carson's medical journals, planning to read it to pass the time. Actually, to hide behind it before he would figure out what he wanted to ask. What he thought Carson would know.

_I can't stand it anymore!_

Carson looked up at him, apologetic, sympathetic, and Rodney wanted to scream at him that he couldn't possibly be sympathetic, that he didn't know how it was, how it felt to live in another world. He closed his eyes and for a moment, he imagined how it would have been if Carson was in his place. He shuddered at the thought and felt that it was best this way. If someone had to be in this situation, it was better for that someone to be him.

_They're almost happy,_ he started. _As if this is some divine punishment, as if... They blame me for talking too much, but they never listen, they never try to understand what I'm saying, they just tune me out and then complain: McKay ranted again. _He didn't dare to look up at Carson. _Some of them look at me with pity. They must think I'm a very lonely person and they're better than me because they have who to gossip with. And some look at me like I'm some kind of menace, a liability, like the whole place is gonna fall on us because I'm deaf, and others look at me like -_ He could feel tears falling on his cheeks and stopped, because he knew how he sounded when he was crying. Carson wouldn't want to remember his voice like that. He didn't want Carson to remember him like that.

After a few minutes, he was calm enough to speak again. _Strange how we always take it out on those who don't deserve it._ Then Carson's arms were around him and he knew he was forgiven.

- --- -

After a while, he got used to it. He had reports he wrote, papers he checked, Ancient gizmos he tested, it was all routine. Of course, he didn't go offworld anymore, but after seeing his team go through the gate a few times, he got used to it, too. The others knew and were careful around him, let him know when something beeped, gave him things to do when he finished his own stuff. He even learned how to read their lips.

The one thing he couldn't get used to was Carson's haunted expression, the feeling that the Scot's smile was fake, summoned just to make him feel better. Carson didn't smile anymore, and Rodney knew it was because he felt guilty. Carson didn't deserve to feel guilty.


	3. Chapter 3

Rodney was on one of the infirmary beds, waiting patiently for Carson. When he didn't come as often as he used to, Carson started asking people to send him over. He wasn't even surprised when someone patted his shoulder and said Carson's name, gesturing towards their comms. So he would come, wait patiently for Carson to finish his tests and go away, just as deaf and just as resigned to the fact as before.

Carson had conducted more tests than Rodney had thought possible, some of them uncomfortable, others downright odd, but he knew Carson needed to do something, and these tests were the only option.

- --- -

The doctor was looking at a chart, muttering something. If only he could be convinced to let it go...

_Carson, you're not helping. This is how it is, we just have to move on._ Carson didn't react at all and Rodney wondered if the man heard his words. The Scot placed the chart on one of the desks, moved closer to his bed and took his stethoscope. _Didn't you hear me?_

_I heard you._ The strangest thing about reading someone's lips was that you had to look at them, at their eyes, see everything, see the sadness, or despair, or guilt. _I don't want to give you up._

_I'm fine, I'm just deaf. _There were so many deaf people who were doing great. He would be just like them.

_Rodney, you don't realise -_

_Of course I do, it's ME we're talking about!_ He was certain he was screaming at Carson, but he didn't care anymore. Everyone was treating him normal, only Carson kept reminding him, everyday, that something was wrong. _Everything would be just fine if you would just let it go._ He rose from the bed and left the infirmary, not looking back.


	4. Chapter 4

Carson had respected his request and left him alone. The world was quiet again. Well, quieter than it was three days before in Carson's infirmary. The Scot had set up a schedule for his check-ups and promised not to 'disturb' him at other times. Rodney could see the bitterness on his friend's face, but he chose to let it go. Carson would get used to it, in time, just like he did.

After a few more days, it all became routine for Rodney. Seeing Carson each morning for a check-up, having breakfast with Sheppard in the Mess Hall, working all alone in one of the labs until Sheppard came to take him for lunch.

He still chose the planets for the teams to go to, he just wasn't one of those who stepped trough the gate. At times, he was jealous of those who came back with new information about the Ancients, or new Ancient devices, but every once in a while, the four man teams would come without a member, or wouldn't come at all. That's when he appreciated the safety of his own lab and wondered what made him go out there in the first place.

- --- --- -

There were two marines posted at the hall entrance, stopping all non-medical personnel from entering. There were a dozen scientists in front of them, agitated, gesturing towards the restricted area. As soon as they saw Rodney approach, they moved aside, allowing him to see inside.

The left wall was blackened in one large area, which corresponded to a door on the right. Rodney tried to remember who was working there, panic slowly overtaking him as he did. "That's Radek's project, isn't it?" The question was met by several nods, but Rodney didn't see them. He was staring at the black wall, dreading all the implications. The failsafe didn't activate. If it had, the explosion would have been contained inside the room, with no visible marks on the outside. If the failsafe didn't activate, then... He pushed the two marines aside and moved forward.

The small pieces of debris were cluttered close to the entrance of the room. Glass and metal. Melted glass and metal. He knew that no one could have survived this, but he needed to see, needed to know for sure. There were so many times when they survived when everything said they wouldn't. They could be lucky one more time. Just this one time.

Inside the room, he saw a few marines and a few doctors. Some of them were clearing the debris, moving it closer to the door. Others were just standing, looking at two kneeling figures: Carson Beckett and John Sheppard.

"He's dead, isn't he?" it was hard for him to say the words, as hard as it was for Carson to give him the answer. The Scot nodded once, then turned around and said something to one of his nurses, setting all those present in motion. A few moments later, three body bags were taken out of the room by the medical personnel, leaving him and Sheppard behind.

The Colonel came closer to him, placing his right hand on Rodney's left shoulder. "You okay?"

"No."

- --- --- -

The conference room felt smaller and darker, with grim faces looking at him.

"You can't leave, Rodney," John Sheppard said, probably thinking Elizabeth was too mild with her polite request. One way or another, all of them had asked him to stay when he announced his decision. All but Carson. Looking at the Scot, he knew the Doctor understood him.

"I didn't ask for your opinions, I announced I want to leave. Whether you approve or not, I'm leaving." Rodney left the table and the room, hoping the others would understand him at some point.

- --- --- -

The next breakfast was dull and tasteless. It was spent without John Sheppard, and it hurt more than anything else. He could understand the other man's anger, confusion, anything but not this. When did John Sheppard change into the type of man who pretended things he couldn't understand weren't there? When did Rodney change into the man that didn't call him up on it?

- --- --- -

"This is your file, Rodney," Carson said, handing him a CD. "All the off-world injuries were explained in a hopefully plausible manner. If you encounter any problems, the doctors at the SGC should know what to do."

His friend turned around and fumbled with the things on his office desk, clearly wanting to say more, but unable to find the words. It has been four years since they met and there were few times during those years when the Doctor had to search for words. It was also the first time they said goodbye.

"Carson, I wanted to thank you for not questioning my decision," Rodney slowly said. "I think you understand why I decided to go."

"Aye, I think I do." After a short pause, he continued, "And ever since you told us you're leaving, I'm wondering if it wouldn't be better if I left, as well." Carson loved Atlantis as much as he once had. Unlike him, Carson could still change things, make a difference, receive something in return for everything he gave. "I don't know if it's the courage I'm missing, or something else, but... I'll stay a wee bit longer."

"You must stay, Carson. You're still... you belong here."

A small smile appeared on the doctor's face. He took Rodney's hands and lightly squeezed them, "Promise me you'll be there when I go back to Earth."

"Of course I will, Carson." Surely, his friend didn't think he was suicidal. He was just leaving this place.

"Just take care of yourself, Rodney."

- --- --- -

The door to Sheppard's quarters opened smoothly, revealing its tired occupant. Sheppard was rarely completely honest about the way he felt, and it was never conscious. It was the way he let his hands fidget, the way he didn't bother to control any part of his nervousness surfacing, the way he was looking at Rodney as they stood in front of each other.

"I came to explain, Sheppard." Rodney sat down on John's bed, uninvited. His eyes glued to the floor, he continued, "I felt I belonged here, like I had a purpose. I don't feel that way anymore, so I must leave." He had everything planned, the way he would make Sheppard understand and hopefully accept his decision. Now, in the man's room, in his presence, it was harder than he thought it would. "When Radek died I realised that... it was just luck keeping us alive. If it weren't for luck, my 'brilliant' ideas would have done us no good."

John sat down by his side, and taped him on the shoulder, causing Rodney to look at him. "But they worked, Rodney."

"If the storm never happened and it would happen tomorrow, I can't guarantee I would find a solution. It was all a matter of... luck. My ideas came out of luck. Do you know what it's like not to trust your mind to come up with the right solution?"

John was clearly trying to understand, but he wasn't trying to understand the right thing. "People died before in accidents, Rodney. I don't understand why Radek's death caused this... this..."

"Yes, Colonel, people died and it was always unfair. And it was always hard to take. And now I was there as a spectator. I wasn't there trying to fix something, or help him, or discover something. I was there to see his body be taken out of the room. I'd rather be useless somewhere else, where lives aren't at stake everyday, where my friends don't lose their lives without me being able to do anything."

"You don't have any friends there, McKay."

"I won't have friends here, either, if this goes on for much longer."


	5. Chapter 5

Rodney sat down on his coach, disappointed. His former neighbor left, taking his cat with her. Of course, after four years during which he stopped by once, it was understandable... almost.

The remote control felt strange in his hands. The TV sprung to life, people gesturing wildly on the screen. There were times in the past when he would leave the TV on, on some news channel and listen to it, while cleaning the house. Now, he had nothing to do but look at it and try to fill in the sounds in his mind. An old woman was talking to a reporter. Judging by that news' title, it was something about pollution. It was strange to see different emotions making their way on her wrinkled face, as she listened to the reported and then answered the questions.

Each time he came to earth to 'visit', he avoided the news... any kind of news. They all seemed unimportant, and at the time, they were. Now, he found himself wondering just how big of a problem pollution was. Considering who they found to discuss the matter on TV with, probably not the biggest.

When he turned his attention back to the TV, he saw two young women, dressed in things that required less material than a napkin, waving their hands in the air. The joy of dumb commercials. With the power off button almost pressed, he waited to see what the advertised product was. Body lotion. The room darkened and Rodney headed for his bedroom, hoping the next day would be better.

- --- --- -

The young man was looking at him with pleading eyes.

"Sir, she's a wonderful cat, this is just a minor problem, I'm sure you can get over the fact that she's blind." The pet store clerk had spent over ten minutes trying to convince him to buy the small, white cat. Rodney had no problem with small, white cats, but he hadn't planned to buy a blind cat.

"I'm deaf," he said, watching the man's face change. "A blind cat deserves something more than a deaf owner. Now, do you have any normal cats?"

"She is normal!"

What world were these kids living in? "Don't give me the disabled crap. She's just as normal as I am, and that's not nearly enough for... Just show me other cats," Rodney finished grumpily.

The next cat he saw was a funny looking orange-white-black one. She seemed to be quite happy, considering the cage and all the commotion. Rodney took her, gently petting her head. "She seems nice enough."

"Will you take her?" the young man asked.

"Yes. I'll take a couple of food bowls and some cat food, as well. Oh, and a big sandbox." The man walked to the counter, probably thinking about prices and quantities, while he went to the small white cat's cage. He slowly opened it, putting his cat inside. After a bit of recon, they sat down, close together, and started licking their fur. Rodney was almost sure they were purring, as well.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and saw the clerk smile at him. "Double the stuff. I'll take her, as well."

Two hours later, his two happy cats were dozing off on his couch, close to each other. Scratching the colored one behind her ears, Rodney said softly, "Looks like you'll take care of the two of us."

- --- --- -

Rodney was looking through the files Carson had put on his 'medical' CD. The explanation the Scot had found for his injuries were quite interesting. Any doctor looking over them would catalogue Rodney McKay as a very unlucky scientist. In a way, he was, but he didn't dare hope anyone living on Earth would ever understand that.

Carson had also added some more personal files to the disc: some of the files they prepared for the rookies, audio and video guides that he, being the foremost specialist in Ancient technology, never saw. He had to smile at Carson's optimism. He was sure he would hear again, otherwise he wouldn't have included the audio files.

It was strange how he never got bored of looking at pictures of Atlantis. The beauty of each detail never ceased to amaze him. When he was there, he saw them, but now, having the time, he really looked at them.

- --- --- -

Rodney considered taking the TV out of his house. He was sure that if he took it downstairs, it would be gone in less than ten minutes. It worked fine and all that, but it was annoying when turned on, and it was useless when turned off.

To be really honest, he found little use for most of the things in his house. He could live well with the bed, fridge and cats' stuff. Those and the big piano in his living room. He bought it when he moved in five years ago and kept it. There were many who questioned his talent, but after a while, he didn't care. He was never going to perform for others, but then again, music was never about the others for him.

He sat down on the small stool and let his fingers touch the wooden keys, remembering the sounds. If only he could hear the simple sounds... do, re, mi... nothing more, no voices, no other sounds, just... sol, la... all he wanted was the music, his music.

- --- --- -

The first thing he heard was a rather miserable meow. Not quite sure that bit was from reality or a lingering dream, he got up and went to check on his little flat mates. Dott was trying to steal some of White's food, probably just for the fun of it.

"Play nice, kids." His voice seemed the most fascinating thing he ever heard. It wasn't as loud as it would have been for anyone else, but he heard it. He tapped his fingers on the wall, hearing the faintest of things. Barely containing his excitement, he phoned the SGC, letting them know he'd be in for a medical check.

- --- --- -

Doctor Lam was quite surprised to see him there, especially since he had completely regained his hearing by the time he got to Cheyenne Mountain. After a few days of tests, he was informed that a new type of nanovirus was detected in his bloodstream. The thing that seemed to turn them off was the lack of Ancient technology in his vicinity, but Lam promised she'll figure it out.

A few days later, the small woman came to his quarters, informing him that 'Doctor Beckett managed to find a solution.' He subjected himself to their procedures, and was later informed that he was nanovirus-free.

"Are you going back?" General Landry asked after the results were official.

"No, I don't think so." He had considered this, ever since he heard the first sounds. As much as he loved Atlantis, going back at this point was... wrong. "No, I won't."

- --- --- -

White and Dott stopped playing, looking intently at him. He was sitting on the piano stool, trying to remember how it started. He wanted to sing, to hear the music controlled by his will. He wanted to explore, to discover, to know.

His fingers caressed the white and black wood.

Do... Re... Mi...


End file.
